The Untitled Script
by Choe55
Summary: The room was cold... mute. Her heart raced. She could feel the sweat accumulate on the palms of her hands as she clenched them into fist in her lap. She attempted to mask the turmoil. Her expression was blank, almost stoic and she looked across the table to stare into ice blue pools, unblinking. Something was... wrong... different... almost otherworldly about this man.


"Hermonie hunched effortlessly over her black walnut desk writing furiously. Meeting deadlines for the ministry seemed to be an everyday affair. The current economic condition the wizarding world had been facing was in decline. Voldemort was dead according to political enthusiasts however, there were bands of Voldemort followers everywhere wreaking havoc amongst wizarding society making it unlivable. With a good grasp on the ministry special forces, there were 28 aurors now which had positive influence against the evil that corrupted currant wizarding populations.

"Hermonie threw down her quill sighing and leaning back in her Claremore antique swivel chair. She tapped her finger on the brown leather arm of the oversized anomaly, sinking into its thick beige cushions studying her Auror office. There was something warm, inviting and even comforting about the odds and ends of this room. It had an old world, rustic feel about it. Something that reminded her of her time at The Burrow growing up. The floors had a light Hickory paneled flooring, scuffed and unpolished. She had built-in polished Brazilian Walnut shelving everywhere that could be considered a wall, crammed with thick volumes of diction and magical gadgets whizzing in colored glass containers. Each container randomly placed and of different shapes and varieties. The ceiling was of Brazilian Cherry wood paneling as well they gave the room a dark warm touch. The window next to the fireplace withstood the rain pounding against its cloudy glass pane as the dark stormy sky's lit up. Lightning bolts struck its venomous hate. Hermonie adverted her eyes from the gloomy day to the warm glow of her fireplace. It created a safe, warm environment away from the menace outside. She had been there for 7 years, now standing at the "ripe" age of 25 years old. With a flick of her wrist, dots of fire erupted from her wand and floated elegantly to 10 candle wicks strategically placed throughout the intentionally disarrayed office.

A high pitch scream emitted out of Hermonie Granger's throat when she hears a sudden 'POP!' in her office. Her papers flew off her desk from the gusts of wind against the limited space. The fire from the grey stoned fireplace flickered, licking the presence of the intruder. The quills that were scribbling furiously on her desk came to a sudden halt to pay attention to the ungraceful entrance of this foreign apparition. The old ancient butter creamed candles that emitted smoke in delicate layers flickered. Hermonie jumped up out of her chair only to get her foot caught on a thick volume of Ancient Dark Aurors through the Ages. She stumbled onto the floor falling over herself.

"Hermonie!" Ginny rushed to her side on the floor.

Hermonie tried blowing her thick, flyaway locks out of her face and peered at Ginny from the ground. "Ginny… what an entrance." Sarcasm dripped with distain as Ginny helped her up.

"Hermonie!" Ginny rushed in a whirlwind, out of breath and obviously ignoring Hermonie's distain. "There's no time!"

After helping Hermonie up, Ginny doubled over in an attempt to breathe evenly. Her shiny, straight ruby red locks sweeping in her face as she leaned over Hermonie's desk holding her side.

Hermonie's expression changed from one of annoyance to sudden intrigue. "Is every okay?"

Ginny threw herself in the ottoman across from Hermonie's desk. She stayed silent for a few moments waiting for her breathing to slow down to a normal rate, wiping sweat out of her eyes.

"I tried to get here as fast as I could." She breathed heavily. She looked a little disheveled as she attempted to smooth out her form fitted navy blue pencil skirt and white button down blouse that took place underneath her open robes. "As soon as I heard…" she took in another gulp of air.

"I'm listening…" she said softly. Hermonie flicked her wand. Her papers flew up from the floor boards in one brisk motion and went back to the neat stack they were in before Ginny's entrance. The quills resumed back to the quicken compliance of Hermonies work due dates and the fire light exploded from the once simmered embrace to a fierce stampede. Light settled brightly throughout the dark room glimmering through the smoky layers.

Ginny raised one eye brow peering at her friend for the lack of interest in her disheveled state. "Hermonie, this is important. I request that you sit down."

"Should I be more shocked of your proper technicalities towards your best friend or the severity of the situation?" Hermonie took a seat, curiosity increasing.

"Perhaps both." Ginny stated with caution.

Ginny locked eyes with her and what she saw made her a little nervous. She saw fear in Ginny's eyes. Hermonie's heart started racing. She knew Ginny was one of the most level headed and fearless women in the ministry. Working with her since they had graduated Hogwarts has brought them so close in friendship. She was a sister to her. That look she was being given… maybe it was about the war.

"I received an owl this morning, Hermonie. The bands of death eater attacks in Edinburgh are confirmed." Ginny broke the gaze and looked down at her hands, biting her lower lip.

It dawned on Hermonie on what could be making her so stressed. She knew that Harry and Ron has been gone to inspect the raids a week ago. They hadn't even received an owl since their departure. Nothing came short to knowing they were okay. The best way to give up your exact location is to send a bloody owl. However… Ginny knows this. Bewilderment erupted in Hermonie's mind as her wheels started turning. Trying to be patient when she was wired with the deepest form of impatience was taking skill that she knew she did not possess. Before she could help herself she started tapping her foot like some mad women followed by drumming her finger tips on the desk.

"The minister of magic is withholding a symposium tomorrow at 3 to discuss what was found with all of the combatants of the Order of the Phoenix-"

"Ginny, I am confused." Hermonie interjected. "Have you heard from Harry or Ron?"

"They landed this morning. They are the ones leading the symposium."

"What?" Hermonie gasped putting her hand up to her mouth. "You can't be serious?"

The last time anyone led a huge meeting in the ministry's colossal room besides the minister, Voldemort was back. Hermonie knew this couldn't be the case. She saw Harry demolish him before her very eyes.

"I have a theory. I had a strange dream last night." Ginny stated, the worry becoming more evident.

Hermonie knew that Ginny's seer capabilities were becoming more prominent the older they became. The fact she thought that seers were hogwash still heavily resided in the core of who she was.

"Before I begin… I need you to promise me that you will remain open minded.

Hermonie slowly sucked in air and let it out slowly while giving Ginny a blank stare, attempted to remain diffident.

"I promise." Hermonie stated a matter of factly.

"Last night I had a dream about Morte. Yet, it's difficult for me to feel like it was a dream at all." Ginny jumped out of the old plush ottoman and started pacing the room, her cheeks showing a flushed appearance.

Hermonie grimaced at the sound of the foreign word that came out of Ginny's mouth. "That's folklore-"

"No!" Ginny cut her off, turning sharply on her heal hovering over Hermonie desk as if to prove her wrong. "You promised!" she stopped herself and sighed. "Can you be open minded? I am begging you. The dream was so real... so detailed."

Hermonie sat there feeling speechless. She opened her mouth to say something encouraging but no words could escape her twisted jumbled thoughts. Can she be serious?

Ginny took the opportunity to break the brief pause. "Do you remember the book we found that article in?"

"The World of Magic and Folklore by Eden Dorsoduro" Hermonie spit out flatly.

"Yes!" Ginny said excitedly ignoring Hermonies sarcasm.

"Do you know what you are saying?" Hermonie whispered. She felt uneasy. Perhaps nauseous. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed her hands were sweaty. Her quickly wiped them on her skirt so they would go unnoticed.

"Yes, I do." Ginny stated a matter of factly, her green eyes intense with determination. "We need to meet at the auror safe house tonight. Harry, Ron, you, and I. We need to be on the same page for tomorrow. I'll see you tonight at 7."

Ginny, looking a little embarrassed turned on her heal, took a quick spin and apparated out of Hermonie's office, spinning paper in her wake.

Hermonie sighed and leaned over her desk rubbing her temples. She eyed the clutter that ensued momentarily. Morte... the thought was so absurd. It was folklore, a tale, a story that people would gossip about around a fire in an attempt to dramatize Voldemort and his following. She sat back and started reminiscing the details. She remembered reading about how Voldemort took a select few followers and administered experiments on them in order to make them stronger in order to win the war. Be that as it may, it was also told that he would 'rid' them so there wasn't any question of a power struggle between him and his elite solders. These so called experiment... she wasn't sure what they entailed. All she knew was that when the rituals were completed, there was little man left. It was a nonhuman entity.

Hermonie scoffed at the idea.

With a slight 'pop' Hermonie arrived at the safe house also known as Eastholme. Her robes swirled around her gracefully. The storm had gotten worse over the past few days and she was greeted by corpulent, cold droplets bathing her hair and soaking through her robes as she walked quickly up to the door. The icy wind whipped her face and stroked her cheeks. She slowly turned the knob and made her way inside. She closed the door soundlessly and was greeted by a dimly lit foyer. She could hear light chatter coming from the common area through the hall. The smell of Ginny's vegetable and roast stew was ecstacy. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth while she slid off her work robes and delicately hung the garments on the coat rack.

This is home, she reflected. The exterior of Eastholme appeared to be a diminutive, whimsical cottage, unappealing to the passerby. It was purposefully placed to not draw attention to a situation brimming with dire importance. However, on the interior, it was magically enhanced. Eastholme was spacious and massive, built to fit almost 30 aurors at a time. It had three stories, all of which were boundless in appearance, reformed to fit the individuals wants and needs. She walked faintly into the common room door frame and peered around the corner at her friends relaxing by the massive cobble stoned fire place that reached the ceiling. There were candles everywhere, illuminating their faces. The ceilings were high vaulted and made of polished wood and brick. There were opulent cream colored couches and plush club chairs that gave an air of grandiose.

Harry was sitting on the oversized, plush couch. His jet black hair messy and untamed. He had a black sweater on that framed his broad shoulders well and trousers built for comfort. His brow was furrowed as he stared into the fire in deep concentration. Ever since his reign with the Dark Lord, he hadn't had much to say about his personal life. Hermonie mused over the fact that he did in fact have one since the last time she checked she attended his wedding with Ginny. The war had changed him. Made him silent and perhaps to Hermonie, even stoic. He was the leader of the auror division and he was perfect for the job. He sacrificed everything for his job. Sometimes, it seemed even Ginny.

Ginny sat on the couch next to him, with her hand on his leg. Hermonie could see her thumb make tiny intrinsic circles on his thigh. Harry slowly took his eyes off the fire and looked at her hand on his leg. He picked her hand up off of his leg and brought her skin to his lips. She could see color turn light pink on Ginny's cheeks.

Ron sat on the thick woven rug with his back against the fireplace. His bright crimson hair fell into his eyes and glittered against the crackles and pops of the fire pit. He had a thick woven sweater on that obviously his mother made him. He hovered over a wizards chess game, deep in thought. Hermonie had a suspicion if they had been engaged with Ginny's story just like she had earlier. Hermonie gasped as she took notice to the deep laceration on Ron left cheek.

Ron jumped and looked up at Hermonie.

"Dear lord Hermonie!" Ron bellowed, holding his hand up to his chest to indicate it was beating erratically from the scare. "What are you doing over there in the dark… you're being creepy."

Annoyance spread through her almost as fast as her cheeks flushed. "Oh Ron, hush!" she walked over to the rug embracing Ron and Harry in an immense hug after weeks of them being away. "Ron why haven't you mended that nasty cut on your face?" Before he could mutter a word, she flicked her wand and the skin started sealing together like hot glue. "How did you get it?"

Ron immediately touched his face where the cut use to be, the look of relief flickered in his eyes. "If that doesn't make me happy to be home, I'm not sure what would."

Hermonie chuckled and sat down across from Ron, next to the fire while Ginny got up to fetch a bowl of her famous hot stew. Hermonie felt warmth seep back into her cold fingers and toes with each bite of delicious homemade heaven. She succumbed to the heat radiating into her back from the pit and listened intently as Harry and Ron went into detail over their findings.

"So, we found ourselves in a bloody forest from hell. Blimey, it was filled with death eaters after we following a man from this pub in Edinburgh. Little did I know that we were being followed verses following the arse." Ron continued.

"I had a suspicion." Harry interjected. "It honestly was too easy up until we were surrounded."

"You were surrounded?!" Hermonie raised her eyebrows in surprise. What a careless mistake...

"Really... it didn't come on as a surprise." Harry interjected. "We had orders to go to Edinburgh and look for clues. We already knew there were raids that had taken place. I figured that we were going to be outnumbered."

"So like I was saying-" Ron said loudly to finish his conversation. "We follow this bloke into a dark forest right? I stun him immediately when I fely like we are close enough. Brought the man down to his knees. All of a sudden.. POP! POP! POP!" Ron started waving his hands in the air at each pop just to emphasize the word. Hermonie couldn't help but smile at his attempts to bring light into a dark conversation. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Their must have been ten of them circling us. Harry, I, and the bloke on the floor."

"This bloke that Ron keeps referring to Draco Malfoy by the way." Harry blurted out.

"Why did you do that?" Ron gave Harry a blank stare.

"Do what?" Harry said dryly.

"You just ruined my story. The was the climax." Ron said annoyed.

"Ron, we have a lot of important things to talk about-" Harry blurted.

"Enough!" Ginny's hot headed nature started blooming. "Did you just say Draco Malfoy?!"

"I thought he was dead!" Hermonie gasped. Her hand getting tangled in the hair as the stressed over the news she had just learned.

"See, that's the reaction I was looking for!" Ron exclaimed with excitement. "That's all I wanted!"

"Well, apparently he isn't." Harry ignored Ron's previous comment. "He commanded them to not hurt us."

"I want to know everything." Hermonie locked her eyes on Harry, scooting closer to the couch.

"After Ron had stunned him... The death eater band apparated around us. We were being held at wand point. They were so close..." Harry shook his head reminiscing. "-to killing us. Draco shouted at them in a language I am not familiar with. Before Ron and I really understood if he was telling them to kill us or not, they started disappearing one by one. Draco threw off his hood and turned towards us. He doesn't look the same..." Harry trailed off.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked with urgency. Hermonie looked over to Ginny. She knew why she was asking. She wanted Harry to confirm her outrageous dream.

Harry turned his gaze over to his wife. "I don't know Ginny." Hermonie noticed he squeezed her hand to calm her, the tension that ran deep in her shoulders relaxed slightly. Harry knew about her dream…

"He just doesn't... look right. It's hard to explain. Besides, he practically surrendered."

"Where does this leave us now?" Hermonie sighed, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"It's in the minister's hands." Ron shrugged. "He is being held captive, I'm sure we will find out who the lucky winner is who will be doing the interrogations and inspections."

"Interrogations?" Hermonie raised her eyebrows at Ron.

Harry responded. "None of this makes any sense. I personally think he's acting as a double agent. Everyone thought he was dead, then all of a sudden he not only alive but practically turns himself in. We got back yesterday and spent the whole day in the minister's office going over details."

"So tomorrow we find out." Ginny said softly.

"I suppose we will." Hermonie said, locking eyes with Ginny.


End file.
